I want to tell you about the actual sex with Carl, the Sex Connoisseur. And about how hard it was leaving him.

I also want to tell you about Sam. About how wonderful he is. About the time he tied me up and used his magic wand on me.

Yeah, you keep pretending THAT’S what you use the Magic Wand for.

About the time we nearly got arrested for fucking in a parking lot. About the awesome threesome we had with an old friend of mine I have been wanting to fuck for years. About how on Saturday night he made me finger myself til I came, next to him in his car while on a busy highway. About how he has the nicest cum I’ve ever tasted, which he attributes to being vegan. About how we tried anal yesterday, and it was the first time for me. And it was awesome. About how he reached out and held my hand throughout the entire 2 and a half hours of Django Unchained. About how he strokes my hair back and whispers, “Hey Gorgeous.”

And I will. But right now I can’t.

You see, I actually miss Carl. A good friend, a great lover, and someone I have feelings for.

And I have – somehow in the space of only one month – fallen in love with Sam. Now I have always had a soft tell-tale heart that I wear on my sleeve. I have always grown attached to people fast. But God, this was a whole new experience for me. I don’t just want to fuck Sam all the time (although I do want to fuck him. A LOT!). I want to spend all my time with him. And it’s terrifying. Not only because of the intensity of the feelings. But because he is fucking leaving town! Sam is about to start a post-doc at a University in City of Many Lights, over a 1000km away from me. I always knew this. I knew this before we even met in person. But I had no idea how quickly we would fall for each other.

I said goodbye to him yesterday. His flight leaves tomorrow. We are going to do the long-distance thing. He called me his girlfriend in passing for the first time on Friday night, which meant a lot to me, and he has promised to visit as often as he can. But seeing as how neither our arms nor genitalia stretch that far, it will be weeks, maybe months before I get to hold him again, have sneaky exciting sex with him again, make love to him again, have him hold my hand in a movie again. And my heart hurts.

Ron has gotten an office 8:30 to 5 job. Which is great because it means we can move out soon. But it means that he left for work this morning, and I’ll be alone for the rest of the day. And so currently, my days look as follows:

5am to 7am: Get woken up to be loved by either a small child or a cat.

7am: Try to go back to sleep. Think about Sam. Decide to message Sam.

7:01am: Realise it is 7 fucking AM and Sam will be asleep.

7:30am: Give up on trying to sleep, decide I have to work and be productive.

7:31am: Go on Facebook/Wordpress/OKcupid instead.

9am: Realise it is time to get the hell off Facebook/Wordpress/OKcupid.

9:10am – 12pm: Look for jobs to apply for. Realise that 95 percent of them demand at least 3 to 5 years experience, and the other 5 percent are unpaid internships.

12pm – 12:30pm: Mope about being unemployed. Find someone nearby to complain to. Message Sam. Decide it is time to cook healthy food.

12:30pm – 2pm: Go back onto Facebook instead.

2pm: Decide to go out for lunch.

2:01pm: Realise I have no money. Consider messaging Sam again. Reject the idea, as don’t want to come off as needy and crazy.

2:02pm: Decide I am too lazy to make food. Eat chips I had hidden in the room instead.

2:05pm: Sing along to the Les Mis soundtrack. Cry.

2:10pm: Decide I want to hang out with people. Realise all my friends have jobs and/or are busy.

2:11pm: Decide to work on my playscript/blog.

2:15pm: Realise I am too depressed to write comedy and/or erotica.

2:16pm: Have an amazing idea to write a tragedy about an unemployed theatre-maker/erotic blog writer.

2:20pm: Realise no one wants to watch that, scrap that idea. Go to have short nap. Dream about Sam.

6pm: Wake up ridiculously horny. Have slept all afternoon and done nothing productive. Decide to make healthy supper. Harass Ron, who is exhausted from work, to spend time with me.

6:30pm: Get distracted by porn (only if there are no small children around. Otherwise I just have to deal with the horniness) and Facebook. Eat grapes for supper instead.

7pm – 11pm: Play Civilisation 5/Monopoly Tycoon. Make self feel better by saying they are stimulating strategy games, and clearly good for my brain.

3:40am: Have what appear to be excellent creative ideas, reminds self to write them down when I wake up.

3:50am: Fall asleep, and forget them.

Repeat.

Today I deviated slightly from the routine to watch my tiniest cat chase and eat bugs for twenty minutes. Riveting. Anything to take my mind off of Sam and how much I miss him already. It’s been a whole one day.

You know the one who you have to carefully check your guest list before inviting them, to make sure you haven’t inadvertently invited one of their exes, one of their exes new partners, one of their many partners, one of their many partners partners etc etc etc.

It turns out this whole having sex with Carl prospect has got me in quite a headspin. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve started sending him pictures of my tits for fucksake. I desperately want to see him. And even more, I desperately want him to purposefully ditch his girlfriend to spend time with me, because of what it means: I am more important than she is.

About 3 months ago before Carl and I decided to be “just friends” he was supposed to come to a big house party with me. I am part of an academic department filled with crazy, loud, artsy people and I wanted to take Carl along because they tend to be really fun. He originally agreed to, and then got flu. He said how sorry he was, and promised a raincheck. It never happened.

About an hour ago I received a text inviting me to another such of these, a birthday party for a friend of a friend. I immediately thought of Carl, so I texted him. I was not sure what he was going to say, because I know that Girlfriend sold her bed yesterday and is now staying at his house. Of course, they have plans. So I reminded him about the raincheck he had promised me, and that he has plans with Girlfriend that I am not invited to for the next 3 days. We had originally planned a big beach trip for this Saturday when she was sposed to be leaving on the twentieth. Now she is going, and I am not. A friend is having a party on Friday. They invited Girlfriend, and made sure not to invite me, because we don’t get invited to the same things now. It’s not that we don’t like each other. Or maybe we do. Maybe I just don’t like her. Because why would she feel threatened by me? After all, she has won. She has Carl, she apparently monopolizes all of Carl’s time, she has basically attached herself to him before she leaves. And so Girlfriend has 3 days to party with Carl, with my other friends, and I have been sidelined. Regardless, Carl says he can’t change his plans. He says he really wants to, but can’t. Do I believe him? I don’t know. So I make him promise to spend a lot of time with me next week, before I leave, making me sound like a whiny, needy, demanding annoyance.

And I hate the way this makes me feel. This is one of the biggest problems with polyamory I think. Making everyone feel important, making everyone feel wanted, desired. I hate the way this all makes me sound, because I basically want him to choose me over her. Which I know is unfair. I mean, I have a primary partner, why shouldn’t he? I suppose because I am leaving at the end of the month, and I want him all to myself before I go. She has been his primary for months. She’s gotten to sleep with him, wake up next to him, fuck him, be taken to parties by him. What have I been? Not even a secondary really. A someone that never turned into anything real. And yet I still feel so deeply for him. My emotions are all over the place. It’s like the prospect of sleeping with him has splattered them across the walls in nauseating rainbow paint. And it’s all highly irrational when looked at from a logical point of view. But whoever said emotions were rational?